Sunday, January 01, 2012

Eight Maids A-Milking

New Year's Day, we woke to a thick sky, full of fog.

We still have no rain since October, when a downpour surprised everyone. Now we're starting to worry. Rain should start in November, or at least December, and so far, we've had none.

Yes, I sang today. And wrote today. And paced back and forth in front of the TV, enough to count as exercise. Come on, New Year's Day is all about the football for me, since we're headed on to losing cable in weeks, as a financial austerity measure. Next season I may have no football at all, except after the fact.

This first day of the new year, I was struck again and again how much I love my husband, and how fortunate I have been in my life, having met him, and having spent 36 New Years with him.

I have no Eights, nor maids, and not one drop of milk in the house, as Lillian, Alex, and I are fair to middlin' allergic to cow juice. We've recently switched to almond milk, which is produced locally, tastes great, has no cholesterol, and is fairly low in carbs.

You're out of work, Maids.


Bernie said...

Sounds like you have a very lucky husband.

Alexandra said...

Also: a particularly exquisite photo.